Someone Else's Story
by eponnia
Summary: After surviving the barricades, Éponine reflects on what wasn't – and what was. [Songfic of Kerry Ellis' "Someone Else's Story" from Chess in Concert. Based on the 25th anniversary. One-shot. *Title has been editied, previously SOMEONE ELSE'S LIFE*]


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: ****I do not have any rights to _Les Misérables_ by Alain Boublil or Claude-Michel Schonberg, or _Chess _by Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus.**

**Normally, I don't write Marius/Éponine, but it's necessary here, because it's canon and leads into Enjolras/Éponine. This will definitely end up E/É, don't worry.**

**This is my first songfic, based on Kerry Ellis' rendition of **_**Someone Else's Story**_** from the 2008 Royal Albert Hall concert of **_**Chess**_** by ABBA. The concert included Josh Groban (as Anatoly), Adam Pascal (Freddie), Idina Menzel (Florence), and Kerry Ellis (Svetlana) as leads. If you know anything about **_**Chess**_**, you'll know that **_**Someone Else's Story**_** originally belonged to the character of Florence (Idina Menzel), but they gave it to Svetlana because it gave Kerry Ellis more stage time in the concert. If you don't know anything about **_**Chess**_**, here's the link to **_**Someone Else's Story**_** ( watch?v=qZLDdEJulCk&feature=related). Kerry Ellis does a fantastic job on the song. **

**As always with my Les Mis fanfics, Samantha Barks as Éponine and Ramin Karimloo as Enjolras. I hope you enjoy **_**Someone Else's Life**_**. **

* * *

_Long ago_

_In someone else's story_

_Someone with my name_

_Who looked a lot like me_

_Came to know_

_A man and made a promise_

_He only had to say_

_And that's where she would be_

Éponine gazed at the hole in her ruined hand with a morbid curiosity. The wound was old, but even after all the years that had passed, it still brought back memories fresh and clear as if the events happened yesterday.

In those days, her world had revolved around Marius; everything she did had been for him. She remembered the way she had hung on his every word, even if she had not understood it; even if it had been about Cosette. But when he had talked about the bourgeoise penny-for-a-thing, it had caused her pain she had never let him see. No, Éponine had never let Marius see the hurt his words had inflicted. She had argued to herself, saying that he had not meant it. But then a voice in the back of her head had replied, It still hurts all the same, whether he means it or not. Why- Then she had stopped the voice, had ignored it, had pushed it aside, not wanting to hear the words.

Éponine remembered that she would have done literally anything for him. If he had asked her to go to the ends of the earth, or to hell and back, she gladly would have gone. But he never had asked for any of those things; he had not asked for her love or undying loyalty. He asked her to find Cosette's home so he could profess his love to Her. Not Éponine, but Her, the pretty bourgeoise who was a true lady, in contrast with Éponine's rags and street-wise manner.

Then, at the barricade, he had asked her to deliver a letter to Cosette. Moments before, it had seemed he was worried about Éponine's safety, but then he had held out that piece of paper that destroyed her moment of happiness. Her heart had fallen as he had told her the address, had urged her to hurry. As she had left the blockade, she had been slightly in shock that he could have done such a thing to her, to his best friend who had loved him…

She had stopped, standing stock still in the middle of the pitch-black street. That was it. Marius had never known she had loved him. She had given him signs – very, very clear hints that he had never seemed to interpret – but she had never said the words aloud to his face. All she had needed was to say the words and he would have known.

She had gone to the house on Rue Plumet, No. 55, and had delivered the letter to Cosette's father. Then she had made a decision.

She would return to the barricades and tell Marius that she had loved him.

Even in the starless night, she had easily made her way back to the thick of the fighting. Grateful for her boy's clothes, she had scaled the barricade quickly, keeping her head down so the National Guard wouldn't recognize her as one with the rebel's cause. But then one of the soldiers had called out, causing her to climb faster, her heart beating wildly. She had heard a gunshot and had lunged to the left. The bullet had hit her in the shoulder and another that followed had gone straight through her hand.

Éponine had cried out, gritting her teeth as blood had blossomed on her coat, the wound on her hand feeling as though it had been on fire. Marius had appeared, and she had choked out his name. Seeing her injuries, he had turned pale and had helped her down the street. Then everything had been a blur as she had almost collapsed, crippled by the pain. She had seen Enjolras step forward and call for Joly. The medical student had come to her side, inspecting her wounds. As Joly and Marius had helped her into an abandoned café-turned-infirmity for the wounded during the duration of the revolution, she had seen Enjolras watch her leave, and his dark eyes had never left hers. Then a lookout had shouted something and Enjolras had clearly forced himself to turn away. Joly and Marius had helped her into the café, and Éponine had lost sight of Enjolras.

_Lately_

_Although her feelings run just as deep_

_The promise she made has grown impossible_

_to keep_

_And yet, I wish it wasn't so_

_Will he miss me if I go?_

She had stayed in the café-infirmity as the battles raged on, too weak to fight. Joly had bound her shoulder and hand, though the bleeding continued and nothing he did could have stopped it. In a lull between attacks, to her surprise, Enjolras had come and sat by her side. He had been exhausted from the fighting, but his dark eyes had been filled with concern for her.

They had talked for a few minutes. Éponine had suddenly felt shy, though she had no reason to be. She had made him laugh, and she had watched as the tension and stress of leading and fighting in a revolution had lessened for a moment. He was handsome, she had noted, with strong features, pale skin, and black hair that had fallen slightly in his dark eyes. She may have been in love with Marius, but she wasn't blind.

All too soon, their conversation had been interrupted by Marius himself. Enjolras had taken his leave, saying he had to re-organize the students. Éponine had watched him leave, and then had turned attention back to Marius.

He had talked about Cosette.

She had kept her eyes trained on the bandage encasing her hand as he had talked about Cosette - his _beloved_. Éponine had felt tears prick behind her eyes, but had refused to let them fall. Thankfully, Joly then had come to change her bandages, and Marius had gotten up to leave. She had started to speak, to tell him that she had loved him, but then the National Guard had started shooting again.

Marius had run out the door without a backwards glance.

_In a way_

_It's someone else's story_

_I don't see myself_

_As taking part at all_

_Yesterday_

_The girl that I was fond of_

_Finally could see_

_The writing on the wall_

Chaos had ensued as the National Guard had begun to scale the barricade, pushing the revolutionaries back. Amidst the turmoil, Joly had urged the wounded - those who were fit enough – to leave as to escape the impending massacre. He himself had stayed with the rest of the wounded. Éponine had refused to flee, even when Joly had given her a direct order. She had needed, in an almost physical way, to know if Marius had made it out alive.

And if Enjolras had survived as well.

In the bedlam, she hadn't had the time to consider if it was that Enjolras was a friend, or if it had been something more.

Then her worst nightmare had seemed to come true as she had watched Marius fall, shot by a National Guard soldier.

Disregarding her own safety and Joly's shouts, Éponine had run straight into the thick of the battle. Before she had made it to Marius, however, someone had grabbed her and began pulling her back to the café, had told her that Marius was not dead, he had just been shot, he was alive. At the moment, however, she could have cared less who was pulling her back; all she had wanted was to reach Marius. Then she had recognized the voice.

Enjolras.

He had pulled her back into the café, out of the bloodbath as she had fought him desperately. He had forced reason into her when anyone else would have dragged her away without explanation. Suddenly the pain in her shoulder had increased tenfold as the wound in her shoulder had begun to bleed again, the stitches torn open by her fight to reach Marius.

Enjolras had ordered her to leave.

She had made him promise to live.

They had gone their separate ways - she, to the streets; he, to the battle.

_Sadly_

_She realized she'd left him behind_

_And sadder than that she knew he wouldn't even mind_

_And though there's nothing left to say_

_Would he listen if I stay?_

The battle had ended with a final earth-shattering gunshot. Éponine had ran towards rue de Vilette to the barricade, disregarding safety once more. Then she had encountered a wounded Enjolras on the streets, hardly able to walk from a bayonet wound. He had told her that Marius was alive and safe and that the barricades had fallen. She had helped him - as much as she could, being wounded herself - to one of the many hideouts she had made her own during her time on the streets.

They had recovered slowly after that night, and the revolution gradually became only a horrific memory. Both had been surprised to find that a strong attraction had grown between them. Then Éponine had come to a decision. Marius had been an ideal, the symbol of the life she had always wanted. But Enjolras had stayed beside her, and had always cared for her well-being more than Marius ever had done. Enjolras had told her that he would never leave her. That she was worth more than what the world saw. Than she was his Éponine, and that he saw the beauty beneath her rough exterior.

No one had ever told her that.

Not even Marius.

_It's all very well to say you fool, it's now or never_

_I could be choosing_

_No choices whatsoever_

_I could be_

_In someone else's story_

_In someone else's life_

_And he could be in mine_

_I don't see_

_A reason to be lonely_

_I should take my chances_

_Further down the line_

That was how Éponine now found herself with a ring on her hand and a child clinging to her skirts. She tore her gaze from the scar on her ruined hand and looked up as her husband entered the room.

It had been a few years since the barricades fell. Éponine had never seen Marius again after the revolution, though she had heard that he and Cosette were wed in a lavish ceremony. When she heard the news, the wound that Marius had left by his sheer ignorance to her previous feelings stung, but it did not bleed as it had before. He had left her for good, and had never known she had loved him; it was better that way. Enjolras loved her when Marius did not.

Marius was an ideal, but Enjolras was reality.

_And if_

_That girl I knew should ask my advice_

_Oh, I wouldn't hesitate; she needn't ask me twice_

_Go now!_

_I'd tell her that for free._

_Trouble is, the girl is me_

_The story is, the girl is me_

Éponine mused that if she could go back to what she was before and be given the chance to change her life, she knew she would not alter one day in her life. True, Marius' blindness had hurt her, wounding her deeper than he would ever know. But if she had not followed him to he meetings, then she would have never ended up caught in the revolution. And she definitely would not be married to Enjolras, nor would she have his child.

No, she wouldn't change one moment.

Life moved on.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: One of my friends who read this before commented that it would be more realistic that if Enjolras had survived the barricades, he would have been pursued by the National Guard. A valid point, but as I find it frustrating and annoying to write in past tense (and I wrote it in this tense for most to the fanfic), I didn't want to have to write that. It also would have bogged down the plot and kept it from moving at the pace I had set. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. If you have time, be sure to look up Kerry Ellis in **_**Chess**_**. **

**Only roughly three months more until the Les Mis film comes out. I can't wait to see Samantha Barks! **


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